Creeping up
by Obscure-Reference-Girl
Summary: Finnick Odair has just won the 65th hunger games, but all he feels is shock. He returns home to try his best for a normal life, which proves unattainable. Annie Cresta has just been reaped for the 70th hunger games. She doesn't feel sad. She doesn't even feel angry. All she feels is shock. Her future depends on his choices,but his life is in her hands more than she could ever know.
1. Shocked

**Hello there everyone...yes it is Batty...back from the dead(also known as the land of musicals and starting university two years early which is not an easy task, trying to get all the affairs in order). Anyway I am back with a new story about another one of my favorite literary couples. Finnick and Annie are my favorite characters out of the entire series so of course I will eventually be deviating from canon and giving them their HEA(happily ever after). For those of you still interested in my other story do not fear. For though I know it has been a disgracefully long time(over six months)I am going to continue the story and will even be as bold to say, have big plans for it. See you at the end :)**

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**FPOV(Finnick's Point Of View)-**

Shock. That is all I feel. I do not feel happy or triumphant or even relieved. No, as the ladder drops out of the sky and I clamber onto it all I can feel is shock. Shock that I am still alive, shock at what I have done to be here, and shock that I feel neither remorse nor pride. I have done no more than what was required for my survival, no more than anyone would do if they were in my place, right? I have killed. I have maimed. I have destroyed. And for what? Glory? Honor? No, it was all for the games.

The moment I step off of the ladder inside the hovercraft reality becomes blurred. I am drugged. I am sedated. I see and hear things, but I cannot comprehend them. The images are blurred and the sounds distorted. There are people in glaring white lab coats with garish hair and skin discussing enhancing me. Enhancing me how? I don't know, but I think I hear Mags telling the capitol doctors that under no circumstances are they to change a hair on my head. I am thankful to have Mags here to protect me. It is nice to have someone else doing the protecting, the fighting. All I want is peace.

I do not, however, find peace. Not even in the drug-induced state of sleep I spend most of my time in. I am unsure of how to judge how long of a time it has been, two days, three maybe. When I finally wake up from the ceaseless nightmare that shifts between scenes of capitol doctors with tubes and wires and district tributes with weapons and gore, I am unrestrained and free of tubes, wires, and weapons. I am dressed in a simple white shirt and linen pants, with warm socks to keep my toes cozy. I sit up gingerly and find that it does not cause dizziness or even the slightest discomfort, so I pad across the room to where a pair of shoes rests near a door and slip them on. The door is metal, intimidating, but unlocked. I slip through it and stride right into Mags' arms.

"Oh my boy," She says nothing else just those three words. I feel her warmth wash over me and for a moment I see the blue waves and green foam, the white sandy beaches. I smell the salty air and feel the breeze of the cooling wind on a hot day. For a moment, I am home. Of course, I am not home. I am here, in the capitol, a place so unlike home it would be frightening if I were capable of being frightened at this point. I am not sure that I am.

"Mags, how are you doing?" I ask. It feels like a silly question, but it was my first thought.

"I'm fine Finnick, fine." She says. She brushes my fair hair back from my forehead and places a kiss on my scar. I was ten when I got it. It was a silly accident; I tripped and fell on a patch of seaweed it the shallows and hit my head on a rock. Maybe it's odd, but I like the small scar the rock left just above my right eyebrow. It helped to remind me of my true self even when the crowds in the capitol were cheering my name during the chariot ceremony or the interviews with Caesar. The little imperfection of my beauty helps to ground me. I reach up to touch it and fell…nothing, just smooth, unmarred flesh.

"Total body resurfacing," Mags supplies before I can ask. "You won't find a scar, scratch, or even a bruise."

"Yeah, guess I have to look pretty so they can parade me around," I mumble under my breath. I know that my beauty saved me in the arena and it's not that I'm not happy to be alive, but it's hard to accept that I am no longer completely myself, but rather the capitol's new version of me.

"So what's next," I ask her.

"Next, well next the real games begin."

The recap of the games isn't pleasant. I hate watching myself spear all of those kids with my trident. I was one of the lucky ones with a useable skill from my childhood. Going out on the fishing boats from a young age prepared me well. I have stamina, strength, and agility. I can tie excellent knots, and above all I know my way with a trident. I've been spearing things out of the water since I could hold a trident upright, about four years old. But people are different. People are so, so very different.

Somehow I manage to finesse my way through the interview with Caesar that follows the recap and exit the stage with the crowd cheering my name. The interview may have been a success but I am still overflowing with relief at its termination.

After the interview I am allowed to seep with the promise of returning to my district the following morning.

When I wake I dress in a simple (by the capitol's standards) fisherman's style outfit. It has capitol influences-unnecessary leather lacing, fancy buttons- and would clearly never be suited for actual seafaring, but it is attractive and reminiscent of home. I want to look like myself when I return.

At the train station I say a heartfelt goodbye to the people of the capitol, after all I truly am emotional (happy to be leaving). They wave, cheer, and blow kisses, begging for my expedient return. Against my wishes their begging is not in vain, though it is unnecessary. Whether I like it or not I will be returning to the capitol in a few months for the victor's tour. And though I do not like it I will play my part perfectly. I will have the capitol eating out of the palm of my hand.

The only people that I encounter on the train are my escort Ceely Green, who is simply bubbling and cannot be confined to one part of the train, the male mentor for this year, Xander Likely, who thumps me on the back in congratulations and heads off to his own car, and Mags who sits down beside me on the plush bench seat and rubs small circles on my back. I relax a little. I may be strong, independent, and perfectly capable of taking care of myself, but denying that a mother's tough is comforting would be lying. I do not want to be weak or unmanly, but it calms me.

Not that Mags is my mother. Mags doesn't even have biological children. But for me she is the closest thing I will get to a mom. My own mother died giving birth to me. Even though I come from one of the more affluent districts death during child-birth is not uncommon. We are not nearly as favored by the capitol as district one or two. Children are born at home with midwifes. Still, district four has very few peacekeepers which I consider a great advantage over most of the other districts where peacekeeper brutality is common.

My father himself is friends with several peacekeepers, well perhaps not quite friends, but at least amicable acquaintances. He and my older brother Christopher know just about everybody, because they trade everywhere. Cristopher is twenty and he and my father run a very successful fishing business…that's where Mags comes in. She took care of me when they were gone-which was most of the time-and practically raised me. I guess I won't have to stay in her home in victor's village anymore…I'll have my own.

"Mags," I start.

"Yes Finnick," She replies with her smile that touches even her crinkled eyes.

"When we get home…what happens?"

"Well, first there will be lots of smiling for the camera, then after a couple days that will all be over with and you can rest for a few months. I think you deserve that, don't you?" She asks.

"Yes." I chuckle and smile in spite of myself. "But where will I live, I mean I guess I have a house now and-"

"Oh nonsense you'll still stay with me."

"But mags I'm not a little kid anymore. I can-" I protest

"Hush, you will still stay with me and that's that." Her tone says that her decision is final…and I can't find the strength to argue what is such a comforting thought.

Home. I breathe it in. All of the camera crews left yesterday and I am left to my own devices. As I sit in the surf, I take it all in, the smell, the taste, the feel. I am home.

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** know that this chapter is on the short side for me but this is where it felt natural to cut off the chapter. In the future chapters will most likely be between two and four thousand words unless, like this one, they need cut off sooner. See you soon**

**Love,**

**Batty**


	2. Chapter Two

Hi guys! Sorry it has been a while but guess what! I'm uploading six thousand or so words today...sadly if you are waiting on more from my story Forever and Always...it's all for this story. Still i hope this make you happy.

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**FPOV-**

My victory tour was hell, but what came after? Even worse. My first year of mentoring was the most difficult. The wounds of the arena were still fresh. I felt like a monster sending other kids to their deaths, and yet I did all that I could to prepare them. Maybe it makes me no better than the capitol, that I encouraged them to kill, but I wanted to see them come out alive…they didn't. Neither did the next year's pair. My third year, the male tribute from district four made it out. I felt relieved for the boy-I had left my own childhood far behind despite my age being less than adulthood-but not triumph. Watching his reunion with his family helped, but it was all undone watching the weaping of the family of the girl who had died. They didn't blame him. They knew that he had had nothing to do with her death, but it was still agony for them. That much was written clearly on their faces. The celebrations in the capitol were sickening when compared with the grief of most of the districts.

As though simply being around the citizens of the capitol wasn't bad enough snow approached me when I was sixteen about a new job. The people of the capitol, he told me, adored me. They all wanted a piece of me. I was young, strong, vital, and apparently, devilishly handsome. Now that I was sixteen it wasn't fair to keep me from them. At first I refused. There was no way that I was giving in to the sexual advances of those predators. When my dad and brother had their boating "accident" things became clearer to me. I didn't have a choice, not if I wanted to protect those I loved, next time who knew…it could be Mags. So I put on my game face and became the playboy of the capitol, loving them and leaving them. I had just enough time for everyone, but not enough for anyone. I used my sexuality to my advantage. I kept my district in good standing by charming the crowds and learned valuable intelligence through hushed talk over damp pillows.

When I wasn't mentoring or attending social events I spent almost all of my time on the beach behind the victors' houses. Only a handful of the buildings were occupied so I found relative peace there.

Today is the day of the reaping for the 70th hunger games (my fifth year as a mentor) coming up. I try to keep my cool. In the past four years I have had one tribute make it back to us. I have watched four young women and three young men from my district as they were brutally slaughtered…and I'm not looking forward to two more.

"Ladies first," Ceely reaches in and pulls out a crisp white slip. Delicately she flips it open and reads in a clear, if capitally accented voice, "Annie Cresta." No, no not her!

Annie…I was sitting on the beach, two weeks after returning from the games, when I first met her. Okay, so I had seen her before, was probably even introduced, but I had never spoken with Annie Cresta before that day. She was a slight, little thing, a girl of eleven years old with long curly brown hair and sea-foam green eyes.

I was sitting on the beach staring dejectedly at the waves the ebbed and flowed pushing the top layer of sand around and contemplating my own mortality. The ease with which the ocean can kill is rather astounding. She came over and began to collect seashells nearby.

"Hi," I said.

"Hello." Her small voice was soothing. "You're Finnick right?" She asked.

"Guilty as charged." She gave me a funny look that I couldn't quite decipher and went back to her shell gathering.

"You seem pretty normal to me," she said after a long silence.

"What?" The surf washed up over my feet and ankles. It fanned out the bottom of her sundress, but she didn't seem to notice the water weighing down the hem.

"Everyone talks like you're so special, but you don't seem like anything spectacular," she explained. I laughed the first full laugh I'd had since my time in the arena. "I'm Annie by the way."

"Thanks Annie."

I took more notice of Annie Cresta from that day forward. It seemed like she was everywhere: in the markets selling woven baskets, playing in the surf when I walked along the beach, passing by me in the cafeteria at school. I was intrigued by the bubbly, happy girl who was also cynical and clearly had a lot of darkness within her. One day I finally decided to ask Mags about her.

"Who, little Miss Cresta? Oh she lives with her grandfather, he's the only family she's got; she's an only child. Both of her parents died of a bad bout of pneumonia when she was barely a toddler." That was all the explanation that I received.

I talked to Annie sometimes, even sat with her at lunch occasionally, but we never really got to know each other. She was always so busy helping her grandfather and I was always so busy trying to keep myself from dwelling on the past.

For several years she was just an intriguing young girl, a curiosity, at most someone who I might like to be friends with, despite our three year age difference. She was about fourteen when I began to realize that she wasn't a little girl anymore. She was a young woman. She was still petite, but no longer with a childish shape. Her hair was not tangled and wild the way it once was. Her impish grin was more mischievous than ever. Other guys always seemed to be looking at her and I couldn't figure out why it bothered me so much. It's not like I had any claim on her, we barely knew each other. Still as I was drawn more and more into the repulsive life of the capitol I found myself thinking of her more than ever. Perhaps it was her innocent nature or maybe it was just how astoundingly different she was from my capitol "clients".

At eighteen I had been visiting the capitol as a mentor and for other required social events for four years, but two of them I had been expected to see clients. They paid handsomely for my time, but I couldn't care less. They all nauseated me.

Annie was the exact opposite of the capitol, naturally young and vibrant, completely unaltered. There was nothing unnatural about her shiny auburn hair and bright green eyes. I found myself escaping into a dream world where I was just a normal young man, free to court whomever I chose. I imagined walking along the beach, a first kiss in the moonlight with the waves crashing around us, holding her, making love for the first time…okay so maybe my mind ran away sometimes. The thoughts were almost gooey in their romanticism, very different from my natural personality, but they were things I could never have, the kind of innocent love the capitol had already stolen from me.

At sixteen Annie is prettier and more vivacious than ever. She manages to hold her head high as she walks on shaking legs up to where I stand. I don't smile at her or join in the congratulations, but nod a silent recognition. She moves her head the slightest degree to show that she understands that I'm here for her.

The boy tribute is called…he has no hope. I can see that Mags agrees by the look in her eyes.

"Mags," I say to her while we wait for the tributes to say their goodbyes, "I want to train the girl."

"That is most unusual Finnick. What makes you desire to do so?"

"Just a feeling I have about her. I know she doesn't look like much, but I think she's the fighter out of the two."

**APOV-**

Shock. That is what I feel. As I am pushed forward through the crowd of sixteen year old girls to the stage in front of the justice building all I feel is shock. I am not sad, or angry, or even numb really. I am shocked. Finnick Odair nods to me and I give a small one in return to show that I…what, understand? I don't understand anything right now. The boy tribute is drawn, a thirteen year old named Caleb, and we are ushered into the justice building.

I don't have many people to say good bye to. My first visitor is my grandfather who tries not to cry, but leaves with tears in his eyes. The second is our neighbor Everly. She is a widow about my grandfather's age, but in better health, and she promises to take care of him which makes me feel one hundred times better. The third is a bit of a surprise.

Finnick Odair himself has come to see me. I know him fairly well. We have talked over the years, traded in the market, and shared our secret spot on the beach, but it surprises me. We'll be seeing each other again in a few minutes.

"I'm going to train you," he says, "All you have to do is give it your all. I am going to get you out of there."

I like him alright and all, but this is just too much. He was a sure win. He has no idea what I'm going through right now.

"This, coming from the playboy who won the sixty-fifth hunger games because he was skilled and even more so because he was pretty. I'm neither of those things so it's your job to make me either really special or really beautiful in the next, oh, seven days or so. If you can't I'm dead. So considering I am currently marching to the tune of my own funeral song, excuse me if I don't really want anything to do with you Odair." I snap at him.

"Annie," he begins slowly, "you're already beautiful." Then he adds firmly, "As for being talented, well, you have many talents! Maybe they aren't the most suited for the arena, but we _will_ figure this out."

A peacekeeper knocks on the door and Finnick guides me out of the room by the shoulder. The peacekeeper gives us an odd look but he doesn't question, for which I was grateful. Of course, I get the feeling that not many people question Finnick Odair.

Once safely aboard the train, we all sit around in the dining car, but none of us is eating. Ceely does her best to engage everyone in conversation, but I think that she knows the hopelessness of her cause. Finnick eventually asks her to stop yammering and her jaw snaps shut. He gestures to me to follow him and I hesitantly comply. I can't tell where he is taking me until we are standing inside of the well-lit room. It looks like his bedroom; I trip over myself trying to back away and fall face first onto the bed.

"This is one of the only rooms that isn't bugged," he explains. Oh. I feel really stupid now, as though he would ever waste his time seducing me. "No one dares listen in on the great Finnick Odair!" He puffs his chest out and places his fists on his trim hips. I can't help it…I giggle. Just a bit. Okay, a lot. "There now," he says, "that's better. That's what I was going for. Now we need to discuss strategies. We have allotted time for this later, but I fell like the earlier that we begin, the better." I nod in agreement. "So, what are your skills? I know that you can weave baskets even tighter than Mags. They've held my dinner quite a few times," he says. I smile shyly. "So during training you can skip the weaving station. How are your knots?"

"I can tie well. I can make a decent fishing hook too…Mags taught me."

"Good, so you can catch your food and put it in something too. You're not off to a bad start." He offers me a small smile, but I don't return it. I don't feel too optimistic about my prospects, not yet. "Do you know how to use a trident?" he asks. I shake my head. "Well, damn…"

We continue like this for a few hours before it's time to go to sleep. I sigh and make to leave. I stop short at the door and turn around. "Finnick," I begin.

"Yes Annie," he replies with an incandescent smile.

"Thank you."

We arrive at the capitol at ten o'clock the next morning. I am dressed in a simple pair of soft blue leggings and a white tunic. I feel too plain to make a good first impression, but Finnick assures me that I look great. The boy from my district looks even more scared than I feel. He is wearing a similar outfit, but Mags says that we won't be matching in future, which I'm thankful for. I can't let myself get attached to the boy or I'll feel obligated to protect him in the arena. He is only three years my junior, but in something like this, that makes him practically a baby. He doesn't stand a chance.

Upon disembarking the train our first stop is to 0the beauticians. My team is made up of three incredibly bouncy women. The squeal when the see me.

"Oh she is so beautiful," one of them moans, "finally something good to work with!"

"Look at that hair!" another exclaims.

The third actually approaches me and says "she will be an absolutely perfect mermaid."

It's several hours before I actually meet my stylist. I find out from the prep team that her name is Mariah and that she has something absolutely spectacular in store for me. Considering that over the past three hours I have been waxed, polished, exfoliated, moisturized, filed, trimmed, and in all other ways, both painful and not, beautified, this doesn't make me joyful. Their idea of spectacular is probably painting my body blue or dipping me entirely in wax.

The prep team steps out and finally I am face-to-face with my supposedly legendary stylist, Mariah Van Hoisin. The first word out of her mouth is, "Splendid!"

"Um…what is?" I ask stupidly.

"Oh, you, of course, dear. You're just lovely."

I feel a little awkward; I'm not used to having my appearance complimented, but I thank her anyways.

"Oh, no dear, not at all. Now, let me at that gorgeous hair."

I don't figure that I have much of a choice so I let her get her hands on my "gorgeous hair". Luckily it's been detangled because I would be screaming otherwise. She yanks through my hair and pulls some back into a twist at the back of my head.

"Simple," she says, "yet beautiful. Perfect." She sticks some blue and green sea-flowers into my hair and steps back once again to admire her handiwork. "Now for that face."

She spends at least an hour on my face, painting intricate little swirls around my eyes. At last she finishes with a light berry tint on my lips and tells me that it's time to get dressed for the tribute parade. The costume she produces is terrifying. The bottom is a mermaid tail encrusted with hundreds of gems in varying shades of green. It's beautiful, but… "How am I supposed to walk in this?"

"You won't be walking love. You'll be riding," she says as though that clears it all up. I allow myself to look at the top and cringe. It's less of a top and more of a…bra. It's a tiny, purple gemmed, sea-shell shaped bra. I slip it on without grumbling just like Finnick told me to. Be a good girl, he said. Do whatever they tell you, he said. At least he didn't have to be a freaking mermaid his year!

I find a feethole at the bottom of the fins which allows me to walk to the chariots, but when we arrive I see what Mariah was talking about. In the chariot for district four are two large coral rocks. She helps me up onto mine and covers up my feet with the flippers of my tail just as Finnick walks in. His jaw drops and he turns to Mariah, his eyes livid.

"You have got to be kidding me. You turned a little girl into a sex-icon!"

"I'm not a little girl! And I'm not a sex icon either!"

"Oh, yes you are and I'm not having it!"

"It worked with you didn't it? If it helps to keep me alive…"

"Chariots in ten…nine…eight…"

They load Caleb up onto the chariot. He is dressed in a fishtail…nothing else.

"Fine," he tells me. "But," he adds, turning to Mariah, "I'm not happy about it." He turns back to me. "If we're going for it, we have to go all the way. No half-assing this. Play the crowd. Blow kisses. Drop an unseemly amount of winks. Play with your hair. Smile alluringly. Flip your flippers. "And…here, what the hell," he says adjusting my back and shoulders so that my chest sticks out more, "might as well show off the assets." I swat him away, but I know that he really _is_ just trying to help.

"Three…two…one!" The announcer yells and the crowd cheers and now we are moving.

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I PROMISE that i will get the next chapter of Forever and Always up guys. I PROMISE! I miss you all,

XOXO,

Batty


	3. Chapter 3

As promised tonight is a multichap upload kinda night! Here is more of my favorite couple of the whole series :)

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We leave the stables fourth. The chariots before us receive a respectable amount of applause, but it's nothing like when we emerge. The crow whistles and cheers at our intricate costumes. I try to remember everything that Finnick told me, flipping my flippers while blowing kisses. This just adds more fuel to the fire. I try to wink, but decide that I probably look more like I'm having a seizure so I stop that. Playing with my hair feels silly, but the crowd likes that too. Finnick knows what he's doing…but is it enough to get me sponsors?

By now we are right in front of president snow's mansion. He last few chariots pull up and the crowd falls silent as he delivers a sickening and long winded speech. Afer about twenty minutes we are free to go.

Finnick and Mags are waiting when the chariot reaches the training building. He helps me down and pats me on the back.

"Good work out there Cresta."

I blush a little when I say "Thanks Odair."

Mags is encouraging Caleb. I feel sort of bad that I didn't pay any attention to what he was doing out there. I was just so focused on not making a complete fool of myself.

As we walk to the elevator that will take us to the fourth floor I confide my worries in Finnick. "So…I didn't make a complete ass of myself?" I ask hopefully.

"Not at all."

"Good. I really had no clue what I was doing out there, but the crowd seemed to like it so I just kept giving them more of it." I shrug.

"Well it was great," he says with what sounds almost like bitterness, "the capitol loves you."

"Gee, great. You know I've always strived to impress them." He snickers as we step out onto our floor.

"Get some sleep Cresta."

When I wake up the first thing I notice is my training gear that has already been set out for me. It consists of a nice blue top and soft black pants with a pair of sturdy shoes. I dress hastily and head out to the main room for breakfast. Finnick is the only other person already awake. I sit down at the table across from him and grab a strip of bacon. It's a luxury to be eating something other than fish.

"How's you sleep?" he asks conversationally.

"As well as could be expected, thanks. You?"

"The same…so are you ready for today?"

"I guess so."

"Well, you're a small girl so the other tributes are going to be trying to intimidate you," he says.

"I wouldn't have thought." I reply.

"You really are a sarcastic one. Aren't you?"

"I do my best."

"Okay, well anyway, it's up to you whether or not you join the careers."

I don't even give his proposition a thought before responding with a resounding "no".

"I couldn't even imagine teaming up with those brutes."

"Just as well," he tells me, "they probably won't want you."

"Thanks!"

"I'm just saying…" He holds up his hands in defense. "I mean if the arena's full of water then you'll be golden."

"What about water?" Mags asks as she enters, followed by Caleb.

"Oh, nothing. Just giving Miss Cresta here some tips."

Finnick was right. The careers try to intimidate me right away, but I ignore them. I spend some time at the edible plants station and a couple of hours throwing daggers. We aren't working together but Caleb seems to follow me everywhere. We sit together at lunch at a table with the tributes from districts seven, eight, and ten. We don't talk.

The second half of the passes in a similar fashion. I practice throwing a trident, but I'm really no good at that and Caleb is only a little bit better. I show off a little at the knots station receiving praise from the instructor there. What can I say? I need a little break from all of the things that I _can't_ so.

After we are released we head back up to our apartment. Finnick pulls me off to the corner of the room and asks me how things went.

"About as good as they could have." I tell him.

"And that means…"

"I was great at knot tying, mediocre at identifying poisonous plants and throwing knives, and abysmal at using a trident."

"So what are you going to show the game makers?" he asks.

"I don't know. It's not like there's a way for me to demonstrate my backstroke. I guess I'll tie some knots, throw some knives. Maybe I can manage to scrape a five." I say.

"Okay, well you need to pick something to work on over the next two days to show them." He places his pland over mine and gives it a squeeze. "You can do this Annie."

The next day I focus on knife throwing. I stand in front of the dummies all day chucking knives at them. I can hit the target but I'm still a few inches shy of the center. Finnick tells me over dinner that it's still good. After dinner he takes me out to his bedroom terrace. Yet again one of the few unmonitored areas.

"I think that I've decided what to do," I tell him. He nods for me to continue. "I'm going to tie slash weave a knife belt and stick the throwing knives in it, then I'll go over to the dummies and give it a whirl."

"A sound plan…do you think you could those knives on a person?" He asks.

"I don't know, probably not, but they could be useful to get food." The end of my sentence floats up like a question.

"Sure they will Annie." He called me Annie, not Cresta. Annie. And it makes my stomach knot up and my heart race with butterflies. How can I be attracted to him? Especially right now.

"I just don't think I could kill someone," I say forcing down tears, "I don't want to die knowing that I've done that." I can't keep them in anymore; a single tear trickles down my cheek, followed by a stream of tears and tiny sobs. Finnick slides an arm around my shoulders and pulls me in to his chest.

"You are not going to die Annie. Do you hear me? I am going to do whatever it takes to get you back." He runs his hand over my hair and I allow myself to relax against him, my head on his chest, breathing in his scent.

**FPOV-**

I cup her head in my hand and rub her back soothingly. I probably shouldn't be doing this, but I've never been one to play by the book. Well fuck it, if I'm going to hell, I might as well do it properly. I kiss the top of her head inhaling her scent of sea-spray and lilies.

"Do you remember the first time that we met?" I ask her. I need to distract, take her away from this dark place. She nods. "You told me that I was nothing special. Do you remember that?" She laughs through her tears which are already starting to subside.

"Yes," she says, "and you said thank you."

"It was refreshing to hear." I say.

"Maybe," she mumbles, "but it isn't true."

"What was that?" I didn't quite catch all of what she had said.

"You are special," she says simply. She looks and her lips are just a few inches away from mine and the gods help me if I'm not going to kiss her here and now. I feel ashamed of it. Kissing her with this mouth that kissed at least five people yesterday alone and another three today, but god I want it. And it isn't just her purity…it's _her_. I lean in a little more.

The door to the terrace opens with a crack and we jump apart. Thank god that it's just Mags. She raises her eyebrows at me, but doesn't ask.

In my dream the night air is warm and sticky. Annie is standing knee deep in the ocean in a spray of salt-water and sea-foam. I recognize the beach, the one behind my house. Her hair is whipping around her delicate shoulders in the wind that barely cools the hot summer air. The air presses her long white nightgown against her body, revealing every curve. Her green eyes are wide, but not with fear. She offers me her hand and I step forward to take it…and shoot up straight in my bed. Someone is pounding on my door, most likely Mags. "Finnick get up!" Yep, definitely Mags.

"Coming," I call.

I'm not looking forward to my day-I'm seeing four clients-but I get up anyway and join Mags, Annie, and Caleb for breakfast. Caleb tells me about his improvement with the trident and I smile indulgently at him. Annie, of course, asks about what I'm looking at which happens to me my first clients file. It's a woman named Cleo, aged 28, with a foot fetish. Reall, a foot fetish? I snap the file shut and give her a half-hearted smile.

"Nothing."

"I've decided on a new form of compensation." I inform Cleo as I lay in her bed after her two hours of allotted time.

"Oh really?"

"Really. I don't want money."

"Oh, no. Of course not. Everyone knows you deal in secrets."

"No, not secrets either. I want to support Annie Cresta, the female tribute from my district, in the upcoming games." I tell her.

"Now Finnick, are you really so fond of her?" She asks and I realize that I have to be careful about this. I don't want word getting to Snow that I'm attached to Annie.

"I know her grandfather very well," I explain. "She's the only family he has and he's a rather sickly old man with a kind heart. I promised him that I would do my best to bring her back to him." I make my words as sentimental as possible and it seems to work because Clea is patting her abnormally large eyes.

"Well if that's it…oh Finnick of course she has my support." I cringe when she says my name but muster a smile and a charming thank-you before I head out the door. It's time to move on to the next one.

By dinner time I have four more people that have pledged to support Annie in the games. If I have to rent my body out, at least I can use it to help her. I don't try to talk to Annie after dinner. I feel too dirty from my day. Instead I just tell her to get some sleep and I jump in the shower to scrub myself raw.

Today brings judgment day. The tributes will be showing their skills to the game makers in hopes of a good score with which to earn sponsors. I'm hopeful that Annie can get a seven or eight. She's a tough one.

I only have three clients scheduled for the day and throughout each of my appointments all I can think about is how Annie is doing. I hope that she isn't worrying too much, then I hope that she does well in her session with the game makers, and by the time I finally see her and the others sitting in front of the television screen to watch the revealing of the scores I'm wracked with nerves myself.

"I'm sure you guys did great," I announce as I hop over the back of the couch next to Annie. She giggles. God I love her laugh. Mags gives me a warning look.

On the screen Ceaser Flickerman and Claudius Templesmith are already giving out scores. I took he time to shower after my last client so I'm a bit late and a bit wet.

"And the female tribute for district three, Lenna Spockles, with a seven," Claudius anonces, "and now for district four." We all take in a deep breath. "Caled Holdings receives a six."

"A six! Not bad, you can work with that." I try to be encouraging, but it's really not that good.

"And Annie Cresta with an unexpected, but delightful score of nine!" Ceaser exclaims. Annie gasps in shock.

"A nine?" She asks.

"A nine," I confirm. "Now little miss score of nine, you need to get to sleep. We have a full day of training tomorrow."

She heads off for bed and is followed by Caleb. I'm about to follow suit when Mags stops me and pulls me out onto the balcony of my room to talk.

"Finnick, I don't know what's going on with you and Annie Cresta, but if you do something to compromise her-" She cuts off when I hold up a hand to stop her.

"Mags I know. I know that it's bad. It isn't right, etc…but Mags…I think I love her." I can't believe that I've said it out loud. Oh, well, no taking it back now. "I think that I've loved her for years without realizing it."

"Oh Finnick." Her eyes are so sad that it hurts. "Why Finnick? Why her? Are you sure?"

"I don't know Mags. There's just something about her…I know that that's a lame answer, but she really is just something special."

"She is a rare girl." Mags says gently.

"I can't let her die Mags. I can't!" I'm almost hyperventilating now. Mags rests a hand on my shoulder.

"I see why now Finnick, and I promise to do all in my power to help bring her back." I feel bad hearing her make that promise because I know that it means she will put all her efforts toward Annie and not Caleb. It isn't fair to him…but she has to come home. "But, dearest, you have to prepare yourself for the worst."

"There can't be a worst. She has to make it back. There is no other option."

* * *

Muahahaha and so they are getting attached! There will be more mags soon for all of you, who like me, absolutely adore her.

p.s. if you notice any inconsistencies with the books (other than the obvious ones like Finnick not dying) please let me know. It has been a few months since i last read them. Also i apologize for any grammatical or spelling whoopsies. I don't have a beta or pre-reader so i do my best.

XOXO,

Batty


	4. Chapter 4

Here is the rest of what i had written. I thought that i would get it up last night, but apparently not.

* * *

**APOV-**

"Today you will spend four hours training with Ceely and then four with Finnick in preparation of tomorrow evening's interviews." Mags tells me at the breakfast table. I'm shoveling in eggs and toast in a manner that would probably make Ceely scream if she wasn't in her bedroom applying her daily makeup.

"Yay," I say sarcastically, "dress up Annie time with Ceely." Finnick snorts into his orange juice. I offer him a secret smile from across the table, even Mags smiles a bit at my antics. Ceely, however, has just arrived at the table and looks less than amused.

"Yes, well," she says, "let's begin. Shall we?"

"Walk, walk, walk, turn, and sit." Ceely barks out instructions while I move around with two books on my head. It has something to do with posture or something. Apparently I look at my feet to much. Thankfully this is the last thing on out agenda. She's already made me walk around for an hour in high heels, practice sitting correctly as well as standing corrects. Hell, she's even made me practice waving, not too enthusiastically, but not too subtle. Surely this qualifies as torcher.

I can't express how happy I am when the door opens and Finnick steps in to relieve Ceely. I toss the books off of my head and Ceely leaves the room with a miffed little "humph".

"Finnick, you are a saint!"

"Oh, really? I didn't know."

"I've been practicing walking for ages. Like I don't know how to walk; I've been doing it since I was a baby!"

"Yes well, not the way ceely classifies walking." He imitates her gliding movements as he walks over to one of the two chairs in the room and sits down. "Come. Sit. Talk." I comply.

"What are we doing today?" I ask him.

"Discussing your strategy for the interviews. How are you going to portray yourself?"

"I don't know…" I trail off and look down at my hands where they lay in my lap. I really have no clue how to make the audience like me.

"Well obviously we can eliminate vicious, strong-but-silent, and sexy." He tells me.

"Okay...hey wait! Why can we rule out sexy? That's what my stylists went for during the chariot presentation. It didnt' turn out too bad. I can be sexy…maybe."

"You're right. You're far too sexy for your own good." His words surprise me. He thinks I'm sexy? "Yes, you can do it, but I don't think that we should continue in that vein. It's much too overdone. Let's go for something more unique, more naturally you, give the audience a reason to sympathize. You my dear, are going to be sweet."

"Sweet?"

"Yes sweet. You will smile incessantly and talk with high, little, lofty voice like this." He imitates my voice, but poorly.

"I thought you said naturally me…"

"I did, didn't I? So let's make it naturally you. I ask 'So Annie, tell me, how did training go? I think I speak for all of Panem when I say that we were pleasantly surprised by your score." He does yet another poor imitation, this time of Ceaser Flickerman. "And you reply coyly, 'well I don't think I'm supposed to talk about it Ceaser, but I did the best with the talents my district has given me.' And then you smile."

"But that's not something I would say!"

"It will be when I'm done with you! This time you get to answer the question."

"Fine," I humph.

"Annie, how do you think that your family feels right now? Proud?"

"Well, Ceaser, considering that my grandfather isn't a complete cocksucker, no, I don't think he feels proud."

"Annie!"

"Alright fine." I glare at him, but do as he says. "The only family I have is my grandfather. I'm his only family too. I'm sure that he feels many things right now, but I know that he wants me to do my best to return to him," I say without breathing. "How was that?"

"Great…just try to breathe next time."

"It's not exactly easy! I hate public speaking. It always freaked me out in school." I can't believe that I've just told him that!

"So pretend that it's not public speaking. Pretend that you're just speaking to me," he says, taking my hand. "I'll be there the entire time Annie. If you ever start to freeze up or feel uncomfortable about the question just look me right in the eyes and talk to me." He slides a hand under my chin and lifts my head so that I am no longer looking down at my feet, but into his brilliant blue eyes. They're just like a calm afternoon see, just as the sun is setting. I've never noticed that before. "Just show them who you are and they'll love you…" He trails off and mumbles something that sounds like 'I do', but that's crazy. "Next question. This one is extra fun. By which I mean super uncomfortable of course. He asks all the good looking contestants this one. 'Tell us Annie. A pretty girl like you must have someone other than her grand-father rooting for her back home. Who's the luckiest guy in district four?"

"Uh…" I suddenly feel very warm and aware of just how close Finnick and I really are. "There isn't anyone else...just gramps…"

"That's not what they want to hear," Finnick says.

"Oh, really! Well it's the truth!"

"Chill. Chill. Just say something ambiguous. That's all they need, something to gossip about. It worked for me."

"Uh-huh, and what exactly did you tell them oh brilliant one?"

"I just said of course there would many broken hearts in district four should I reach my untimely demise," he says roguishly.

"I'm not sure that'll work for me. Was that really it?"

"Well, he did ask if there was a special girl who I would miss. I told him, the sea."

"Oh, now that's romantic," I scoff.

"Fine, so what are you going to say? It has to be sweet."

"Yeah funny enough I got that much thanks." I think hard and begin to talk, still looking into his bottomless blue eyes. "Well…there is this guy, but he's a few years older than me…"

"Go on," he say, now back to his Ceaser voice.

"He has the most brilliantly blue eyes. They're like the calm sea at sunset…and when he smiles…" I bite my lip thinking about it. "One side goes up just before the other. He tall and muscular too, which doesn't hurt," I tease.

"I'm sure it doesn't." He does an incredibly accurate Ceaser chuckle which makes me laugh. "Do you know each other well? Does he know about your feelings for him?"

"We know each other fairly well from the market, passing each other in school. Every now and again we share this secret stretch of beach…but there's no way that he would ever think of me like that. He still thinks I'm the little girl he met on the beach who told him that she didn't think he was anything special. Obviously her view on that changed."

I catch myself. I've given it away. I expect Finnick to ignore what I've said, to chuckle like Ceaser and say something witty, at the very least to tell me to be careful about what I say, but he does none of these things. He closes his eyes and bites his lip and says, "No he doesn't."

"What?"

"He doesn't think that you're still a little girl. In fact he's very much aware that you are not." I'm still trying to process what he's saying. "Annie I would have to be blind _and _crazy to not notice you. Even if I couldn't see how beautiful you are I would still know how special you are. Annie you are the most beautiful person I have ever known. I think all of these years you've been…creeping up on me until I finally noticed that it isn't the idea of you that I love…it's you."

The other night on the roof I had thought that Finnick was about to kiss me. Afterwards I concluded that I had obviously been having delusions of grandeur, but what if I wasn't? My heart pounds and annoyingly obvious tattoo against my ribs as Finnick leans in…and…yep, he kisses me.

Now I've never been kissed before so I don't have anything to compare it to, but surely he is the best kisser in the world. At first it's just the lightest brush of his lips against mine. Then he threads a hand into my hair and slides the other up to cup my cheek as he deepens the kiss. My hands naturally come up to rest on his chest, tangling in the soft material of his shirt. His tongue slides along my bottom lip and I open my lips to receive him, but he pulls away. He lets go of me and stands and puts as much space between us as is possible in the small room.

"I-I'm sorry Annie I-I-I don't know what's gotten into me. This is completely inappropriate." He runs his hands through his hair, disheveling it farther than it's already artfully mussed look.

I sigh. "And there it goes."

"What?" He turns back to face me, looking confused. I shrug.

"My happy. Wheeeeew there it goes, out the window."

"What?"

"Well, you see Finnick, you can't just give a girl hope like that and rip it out from under her feet it just isn't nice."

"I'm sorry I-" I hold up my hand to stop him.

"I wasn't finished yet. You can't just give a _tribute_ another reason to fight to come home, something to really motivate them and then take it away. I love you Finnick Odair, you pea-brained, jerk. I have loved you ever since I was a young girl, twelve actually."

"I-I'm sorry Annie, but I'm your mentor and-and I'm the absolute worst man that you could ever love."

"Well maybe you should have told me _that_ on the beach when I was eleven, then we wouldn't be in this mess." I leave the room, not slamming the door behind me. Even though I have just spoken the harshest words that I probably ever have in my life I still can't bring myself to slam the door.

I huff all the way back to my room. I shut myself in and only come out for dinner when Ceely bangs on my door and shouts at me that I'm being rude. Rude! As if she isn't rude! I whip open my door and huff at her. This just earns me a glare.

"This is not how the future winner of the hunger games acts," she tells me sagely.

"Of course not," I mutter.

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

"That's what I thought." She escorts me to the dining room table where everyone is present, but Finnick. I hope I didn't scare him off that badly. I'm really not a scary person.

"Where's Finnick?" I ask Mags. She shrugs noncommittally.

"Somewhere around," she says. Great, she knows.

"I'm always around," Finnick says as he walks into the room. He seems completely unflustered. Naturally I'm the only one affected by our earlier encounter.

He takes his seat across from me and Mags smiles at him affectionately. He really is like her son. I remember when his family died; it was really hard on him. I think he might have been sixteen at the time. I saw a lot of him at our beach spot during that time. We woulsd just sit next to each other watching the waves. I hope that my companionship helped him in some small way. He needed-no needs help. And he's worth helping. Not many people seem to realize this, but I do, and so does Mags.

"Eat something," She urges him, passing over a plate of rolls. Finnick takes two and offers one to me. I accept. I'm glad he's not being awkward, but I'm also confused.

"Here," Mags says, offering me some sort of stew. "You need to eat too." She smiles at me and I can't help, but feel better. Mags is just so motherly and I've never had a mother before, not one that I remember. Also, the food is delicious. It's so different from what they serve at home. Here I can eat all kinds of meat, not just fish. There's chicken(which is my new favorite), ham, and turkey. I don't particularly like the steak or pork(even though Finnick says pork comes from the same animal as ham) or lamb, but hey, it's not fish! I haven't even eaten a single oyster or shrimp. I did try the calamari, but we can't afford to eat that back home, squid is too rare now.

I take a spoonful of stew and moan. This stuff is amazing!

"What's in this?" I ask.

"Uh, it's just beef stew: potatoes, carrots…beef…" Finnick trails off. Apparently he doesn't know much about food.

"Well it's amazing!"

"We'll make sure to have some tomorrow night then," He says. This ends the pleasantries for all of us. It's down to business. Mags asks what my plan for the following evening is and scoffs at my answer.

"Really Finnick, sweet?"

"She _is_ sweet!" He insists.

"Not to everyone." This is the first that Ceely has spoken since we sat down. Clearly she's still miffed about earlier. These capital people are so easy to offend.

"It'll be fine," I finally chime in. "I'll play my part perfectly. Besides, like Finnick said, I _am_ sweet…when I want to be."

I lay awake in bed. I've been tossing and turning for the past two hours and it's now midnight. It only now seems to be sinking in that in less than forty-eight hours I could be dead. There is so much I have yet to do. I've never gone fly-fishing. I am so close to breaking the record for the best time swimming out to the little lagoon; I only need one more try. I'm still a virgin. Until yesterday I had never even been kissed. They seem like such small things, but they're things that will probably always stay the same. I won't be alive to change them.

Maybe if I get up and walk around the apartment I'll realize how tired I really am. I slide on a pair of slippers and tip toe out of my bedroom. I walk slowly across the living room, challenging myself to make no noise. When I look up from my feet I'm well across the living room. In fact I'm in the hallway on the opposite side of the apartment in front of a slightly cracked door. Through the crack I can see the shadow of a man in the light from a lamp. Finnick's room. I tap lightly on the door. His head snaps up and I half expect him to throw a weapon at me. He looks as startled as the tiny fish at home when children chase them.

"It's not the best idea to sneak up on a former tribute," he says quietly. I take this as permission to enter, so I do so, closing the door behind me. Now I have a better view of him. He's wearing nothing but a pair of cotton pajama pants which gives a view of an unsettling amount of perfectly golden skin, nothing like my pale freckled complexion.

He's sitting on a bed, head bent over some papers. His back is to me as he writes something. He has the body of a swimmer, lots of lean muscle. "Couldn't sleep?" He asks me.

"No. You? What are you doing?"

"Financial stuff."

I lean in and look over his shoulder. On the bed are ledgers of anonymous donations to various charities in district four. Most of them seem to be to the orphanage.

"It was you wasn't it?" I ask, "You were the one who financed that new wing in the children's home."

"Maybe."

"Finnick…you really are amazing. You know that, right?" I place a hand on his bare shoulder and my whole body tightens in reaction to the contact. He doesn't shrug away, exactly, but he moves to put away the papers.

"Quite a change in tune since we first met." He smiles wryly.

"It's true though. And I wanted you to know…just in case, you know, I die."

"You're not going to die Annie."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because you are going to have so many sponsors you won't know what to do and-and I have quite a bit of pull, I might be able to sway the odds in your favor." He looks down and bites his lip in that way that makes him look younger, more like my age.

"Even with all of your help there's still a good chance that another tribute will kill me off. I have at least a seventy-five percent chance of death…I'm scared. He pulls me into him and rests his chin on my head.

"I know Annie. I know you are, but you can't let them see that."

"I know." I say testily.

"But you can let me see, because I understand Annie. I was scared too." He rubs my back and I feel so small.

"I'm not afraid of death really," I say. "I'm going to die eventually anyway and my grandpa will be taken care of…it's all the things I'll miss."

"Like what?"

"Like learning how to fly-fish," I say.

"It's not really all that exciting."

"Maybe not, but I still want to learn."

"Fine, I'll teach you when we get back to district four."

"Finnick!"

"What? I will. What else?" He is infuriating.

"I'm so close to beating that lagoon swim record." I lament.

"I'll help you train the day after we get home. Is that all?"

"I don't want to die a virgin."

"You're not going to die Annie."

"But I might. And you can't teach me to fly-fish or train me in swimming tonight…but you can give me one last experience before I die."

**FPOV-**

"No Annie…I can't."

"Why not?" She asks. I'm finding it hard to respond. She has settled herself across my lap facing me…and god, I'm going to hell.

"Because Annie, now isn't the right time. And believe me when I say that that's something you want to wait for the right time for. I should know, I wasn't given that choice. That's something you should give to someone you love not throw away because you think that you're about to die, which you're not, I might add." As difficult as it is, I manage to extricate myself from under her and sit back down on the bed so that I'm facing her.

"Is it because I'm sixteen? Three years isn't that big of a difference. I know I'm not all perfect like the women in the capital. I'm flat chested and short." She pouts.

"God no Annie, it has nothing to do with that. There's nothing wrong with you. You are more beautiful than anyone I have ever met. You're perfect, but Annie…I'm not. I'm broken and used and jaded. You're so pure in so many ways, and I won't be the one to take one of them away from you. Maybe in a different life I could have been lucky enough to call you mine in any and every way, but now."

"Great, so basically I'm going to die a Virgin." I can't help but laugh.

"No Annie, you're not going to die. You're going to come home to me and I'm going to teach you fly-fish and I'm going to be there cheering you one when you break that record. We'll build a life for ourselves out of the rubble the capital has turned us into and maybe…maybe one day…"I trail off. She nods.

"Finnick what did you mean earlier about not having a choice."

"Fuck," I wasn't thinking. I must have let something slip. "Nothing you need to worry about Annie."

"I think I know Finnick. All those women in the capital…if I win is that what's going to happen to me."

"No."

"Be honest Finnick. I need to know. I need to be prepared. Hell, do I even want to live?"

"No Annie. I won't let that happen to you," I say fiercely, "I will protect you to my last breath, always."

"There isn't much you'll be able to do pretty soon," she says. I grimace.

"You're strong Annie, stronger than you know.

"Can I-can I sleep in here tonight?" She asks, her voice wobbly. "I don't want to be alone." I sigh. I really shouldn't do this.

"Yeah, come on." I hold back the covers for her and let her slide in. I lay down next to her, keeping a decided distance.

"Thank you Finnick," she breathes, snuggling in closer. I can feel her warm breath on my shoulder and I shiver. It's unsettling, being close to someone like this. She reaches out and takes my hand in her much smaller one and I will myself to relax.

"Go to sleep Annie," I say, but when I look down at her, her eyes are already closed, her breathing slow and even. Now that I know she can't hear me I allow myself to say it. "I love you"

* * *

By the way, after a while this story will turn into more of snapshots of their life. Considering that ten years elapses between finnick's win and the 75th games I'm just going with the important stuff...like when he teaches her to fly-fish. There will be some more straight through stuff for a while and then when the 75th games roll around it will be straight through as well. I just thought that i would let you know.

I hope that you're enjoying...and dare i ask(*ahem* beg *ahem*) review :3

XOXO,

Batty


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